


Watch That Last Step

by facetofcathy



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsmooch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-17
Updated: 2008-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetofcathy/pseuds/facetofcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>As first kisses go, it probably involved more blood than usual, but that was not always a bad thing in John's book.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch That Last Step

John looked at Rodney, standing close like they always did, sun shining off his shiny forehead, brow wrinkled in disgust, lip curling from the same cause and wondered what would push them the last half-step closer. Maybe the blue skies and the hot sun, the clean air and an easy day would do it. John had been thinking a couple of beers might do it, symbolism be damned. He'd also considered a vacation, possibly even on Earth. If they still had parties for every conceivable holiday the way Elizabeth had liked, that might just do it. Some sort of Athosian celebration maybe, or a nice harvest festival on a friendly planet would do the trick. He'd considered the planet Lorne's team had gone to with the interesting trust ceremony. He'd considered a lot of things.

If he had been paying attention instead of considering, he might have noticed that Rodney's curled lip and beetled brow were warning signs of an ill advised rant about the local religion which the locals didn't seem to appreciate. If he had been paying attention, he might not have to be literally bowing and scraping in abject apology and agreeing to everything and anything including two hours of religious instruction to keep the locals from getting even more unhappy. He hated apologizing. He'd rather they were running for it.

So it was anger that was going to do it, not sunshine and happiness. He was stalking down the corridor, likely looking demented, closing in on Rodney's door and getting angrier with each step. He was stoking his own fires somewhat purposefully; even he would cop to that, but he was still genuinely furious. Furious and reliving every embarrassing moment of his public apology, the highlights of two hours of the revealed mysteries of the ancestor gods, every annoying comment out of Rodney on the walk back to the gate, every single irritant of the whole damn day. Anger was taking him where he wanted to go, so he let it.

Rodney's door, locked of course – Rodney wasn’t completely oblivious and had grasped that John was pissed at him – opened to the short sharp shot of his mental command.

Rodney was sitting at his desk. He rose and spun to the sound of the door opening. "Oh hey, mi casa es su casa and all that crap, since apparently I can't keep you out anyway."

"Shut up, Rodney." John covered the distance between them, spared a thought to lock the door for real and got a fistful of black tee shirt. He pulled, hard - got his other hand on a muscled shoulder and pulled some more. He got more teeth than lips for his trouble, Rodney had been about to say something, but that was fine, John had teeth too. As first kisses go, it probably involved more blood than usual, but that was not always a bad thing in John's book.

Eventually John pulled back, letting go with one hand to smear the blood off his lips and to incidentally gauge Rodney's reaction. He had been thinking maybe a sixty percent chance he'd get a hesitant yet interested response leavened with a little chagrin and nervousness, and a forty percent chance he'd get anger leavened with a little disgust or confusion. What he got was Rodney lit up like a nova, eyes snapping, and body crackling with tension. He was electric, like you'd expect him to be during a once in a lifetime moment of genius in the lab. He'd seen guys like this before. Guys who came alive in a boxing ring, or on a basketball court – like Ronon in the gym or on a mission - guys who put their whole selves into competition and physicality. John fancied he'd achieved that state himself from time to time. In all these years with all the missions and training, fighting and running, John had never seen Rodney show even the tiniest enjoyment of anything physical. He'd even confessed once that he'd only played hockey for half a season when he was eight. He'd gotten kicked off the team for refusing to go over the boards for a shift change because he was in the middle of working out the vector for a perfect slap shot in his head. Rodney was the kind of guy who lived in his head, not his body. Everybody knew that. Everybody was so very, very wrong. Suddenly, Rodney was every guy who'd ever puffed himself up and said, 'bring it on'. He was on fire, high on adrenaline and passion and John was really, really not in control of this situation at all.

Rodney had his fists in John's black tee shirt and John was being propelled backwards, flying into the door with an impact he was going to remember in the morning. Rodney was just looking at him, pinning him up against the wall like a specimen. His eyes were dancing and he was laughing, the bastard was laughing at him. "What did you think John, that I was going to melt in your arms, maybe go down on my knees with just a little encouragement? You should see your face. Seriously."

Rodney was pulling now, fist full of fabric, pulling John off the door and propelling him back into the room. John heard the sound of tearing and the neckline of his shirt was expanding. Rodney laughed again, reached up with his other hand and yanked, ripping the shirt right off John's body. He followed that move up with a nicely timed shove that had John landing on the hardest fucking mattress in the city. Rodney followed him down, getting his big hands wrapped around John's wrists and pinning his arms above his head. Rodney looked down at him for a long moment and John swore he could smell ozone. Rodney's eyes were shining with some inner light and the evil, evil grin was threatening to split his face. He shook his head in mock seriousness. "John, what am I going to do with you?" Rodney didn't wait for an answer, just dove in for another kiss, ferocious, but with a little less blood this time.

"Um, Rodney?" John said, when Rodney finally let him up for air. "You got any rope around here? I was just thinking you'd have your-"

"Hands free. Yes, excellent thought, John. Perhaps there's hope for you after all."


End file.
